Kindred
by Annie Dolnar
Summary: On that miserable Halloween night, a more incredible and interesting thing took place than anyone imagined. The world believes the Potter line has been erased, but in reality, its heir and matriarch survived. And the first person to meet either of them upon their return, is none other than Severus Snape.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't plan to do many pre-chapter notes, but I thought I might do this one, since I am currently stuck at home doing less than nothing.**

 **My family is stranded by Hurricane Harvey. No, we are not flooded- we can thank the man who designed our neighborhood for that- but all of the roads surrounding our neighborhood are impassable. This afternoon, I rode my bike through the waters to see how deep they went, and for the fourth day in a row, they are still too high for my car to pass through them.**

 **I started writing this story over a year ago, but I delayed publishing it to the site, as I knew it would be long(I'm rather bad at "long") and the characterization off. Consider it my fantasy land, for these characters to behave "off"- if you know you won't enjoy it, you might wish not to read, but if you don't tend to care, this might be fine for you.**

* * *

Harry Potter, age 9, was traipsing down the empty, snowy street, all by himself. His wide green eyes passed over all kinds of new things- beautiful evergreens, snow-covered playgrounds, snow-people, even warm houses, though he dared not approach them.

The cold was biting, and he found himself, for the first time, uncomfortable in his environment. He loved it. Harry pressed his gloved hands over his face and breathed into them, in an attempt to warm his reddening nose, and continued on his walk.

Upon reaching the end of the street, Harry turned around. He was just about to head home, when he noticed something odd down the next street over. One of the houses had grown, out of the ground, like a flower.

Harry knew when he was seeing magic. His mother had made very clear what he could and could not do while outside, what was normal and what was not, and he also knew, from watching telly, what was certainly not. He looked over his shoulder at his own street sign, and then back down where the strange house was. He found that if he backed away slightly, it vanished. Harry thought to the maps his mother had shown him of the area. His street was called Sugar Cove. If he were to turn down the street crossing Sugar Cove, which was called Cobble Canyon Road, then he would eventually hit the end of Cobble Canyon and be able to turn left on the street called Spinner's End.

He looked back at his home, and then down at his pendant. He loved his mother, but he hadn't been allowed to see very much magic. Then again, any magical stranger could be an ex-Death Eater, whether nice or not, as his mother had said many times before allowing him to leave the house. There was also the thought that, at any moment, Lily Potter could activate her son's pendant and see where he was, and she might consider the distant road much too far.

But…

Harry continued his game of putting the Spinner's end house in and out of sight. What was the harm, really? Maybe he could go there, spy on the inhabitant, and then leave. If the inhabitant seemed nice, perhaps he would stay. And even if the inhabitant wasn't nice, no one had seen or heard from Lord Voldemort in many, many years. And to top it off, Harry was well-disguised, knew all about muggles, and covered his scar with a well-placed headband. He knew better than to give his real name to anyone, so why would anyone want to sacrifice him to Voldemort, or whatever else?

It was this reason that sent Harry down Cobble Canyon- a little less carefree, as something in him knew he was breaking his mother's rules, but still extremely curious.

The house on Spinner's End was in the back of the neighborhood, and appeared very unfriendly, at least as far as houses go. There were no lights on inside. It was a greyish black, with no flowers around it- although Harry thought that he saw a few when he tried to peer around the back. It looked as if it hadn't been lived in for years.

Fascinated, Harry kept on. Perhaps no one lived in the house at all, he thought. Perhaps it could become his own little clubhouse, closed off from the non-magical world and kept secret from his mother. He could hide his pendant somewhere at the park, and come here, and maybe he could practice magic.

Delighted by this prospect, Harry knocked on the front door, and, upon having no response, tried the handle.

Locked. He frowned to himself, and started searching around the windows, until suddenly a cold voice shocked him from his thoughts.

"Excuse me," the voice said, dark and clearly not impressed.

Harry turned around so fast, he fell into the snow. There, right in front of him, was a giant bat! Well, it wasn't really a bat. It was just a man who bore strong resemblance to one.

"Would you care to explain why you were trying to break into my home?" asked the bat-man.

Harry swallowed nervously, but collected his words quickly. He had never spoken to anyone other than his mother.

"My mother doesn't like magic, sir," he began, sounding forlorn, "and when I saw this house grow out of the ground from my street out of an empty lot, I thought maybe a wizard lived here, so I came to see. But the house looked like _no one_ lived there at all, and then I thought maybe I could make it like a secret clubhouse and practice magic without my mother knowing, sir. I didn't know you lived here."

The bat-man glared at him.

"Your name?"

"Evan Baker," Harry answered immediately. His mother had drilled the false name into him as though it were his own.

"Your mother is a muggle, then?"

"No sir," Harry answered. "But she doesn't like magic, and doesn't use it much."

"A witch who doesn't _like_ magic," he scoffed. "Useless."

This response caused Harry's temper to flare. "She's afraid of the bloody Death Eaters noticing if she uses her magic, more like. She spends all day brewing fantastic potions- my Mum's _far_ from useless."

The bat-man raised his eyebrows. "But the Dark Lord is gone, and all known Death Eaters are in Azkaban. Why would she continue to fear them?"

Harry calmed and shrugged. "I dunno, sir. What's your name, anyhow?"

The bat-man glared so harshly, Harry had to resist the urge to take a step back.

"I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And I don't like children."

He turned and began to walk back into his house, and despite his terrible demeanor, this was the first other Wizard Harry had met. Harry called after him.

"Wait, please," he shouted, "I've never met another wizard before besides my Mum! I just want to know about magic, and- and Hogwarts-"

"Find someone else," replied Snape, waving his hand and shutting the door behind him, leaving Harry alone once more.

It was still cold, but Harry didn't like it anymore. He turned around and head back to the warmth of his home and the sad arms of his mother.

* * *

When Harry returned, the widowed Lady Potter hardly noticed.

Harry was rather unsurprised by this. After all, he had been going out on his own regularly since age 6, for longer and longer periods. His Gram had encouraged it, after seeing too many of her house things destroyed by accidental magic. Gram had kept Lily Potter from worrying too extensively over Harry's trips, and soon Lily didn't think much of them at all.

He sighed, collapsing onto the couch next to the fireplace. He missed his Gram. She wasn't really related; she was just a potions mistress who took on his mother for training after the war, but living with her had been like having a grandmother, and they had been very close. She was a very no-nonsense sort of person, who might come off as abrasive but was truly gentle and kind. She always made sure Harry was well-fed and happy, well-mannered, and even taught him some games. Her illness two months prior had come on like a freight train, and it had been unstoppable. The woman was nearing 142 years of age, and she asked that her life not be prolonged. Her property and funds had gone to her next of kin, and Lily and Harry had needed to leave before evidence of their stay became apparent.

The sound of his stomach growling brought Harry out of his nostalgia, causing him to hop up from the couch.

"MUM," he shouted, "what's for dinner?"

Lily Potter, who was no longer brewing but taking notes on the properties of some new ingredients, jumped to look at the clock. It was already close to 7pm, and Harry had to be hungry, if he had gone so far as to call out for her.

Harry could, if he wanted, make himself a sandwich. But he knew his mother enjoyed cooking almost as much as brewing, and he enjoyed helping her. It was one of those things they were able to do together, as a family, and it had become a cherished tradition between them.

"Harry," she smiled, as she emerged from the basement-turned-potions-lab, "I'm so sorry. I lose track of time so easily down there."

Harry simply brightened his own smile, even though he secretly wished she might come out more often. Brewing made her feel better- her demeanor now was better than when they first arrived after Gram passed, when she had mostly slept, and cried. It was harder for her if she thought he was upset though, and so he hid it well.

"It's ok, Mum," he encouraged.

Lily yawned. "What are you hungry for, kiddo? I think we've got..."

Harry followed her to the kitchen, listening to her chatter about dinner. Now that she wasn't sleeping all the time, she never seemed to stop working either. They picked something to cook, and Harry started gathering ingredients as she listed them from the recipe.

"Not sure if we have okra," she was saying thoughtfully. "Have a look in the storage if you don't see any."

"Mum," he asked, whilst looking through the cupboards, "do any other wizards or witches live around here?"

Lily stopped short, froze on the spot it would seem. Harry became nervous as he watched her take a deep breath before turning to him with hardened eyes.

"No. Have you met any?"

"No, Mum, I just-"

"Where did you go today?"

"Just down the road, like we-"

"How far?"

"Mum-"

" _How far?_ "

Harry huffed.

"I stayed on Sugar Cove. I just went down to the playground."

Lily sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. There used to be a wizard living here, but he moved a very long time ago and never returned."

"You knew a wizard here?"

She smiled. "Once. Perhaps I'll tell you about him. But you must promise, Harry, that if you meet another wizard, you will turn right around and come home to tell me."

Harry hesitated under her gaze, but ultimately he realized that if he were to have any freedom, he must create it for himself.

"Yes Ma'am."

* * *

 **And there you go.**

 **One problem I have encountered writing this, is that I cannot seem to decide who I want the story to focus on. Every chapter may focus more strongly either on Harry Potter or Severus Snape, as I suppose this is really more my attempt at an adoption fic than anything else.**

 **It is a bit irritating, to have so little handle on focus, but I could not focus only on Potter and still have the desired depth. I'm just not that talented. We'll see what I come up with over time.**

 **Chapter 2 will arrive sooner rather than later. I have about seven chapters already written, which I am tweaking and embellishing as we speak.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Silver wisp, eye of newt, hmmmhmm."

 _Please get on with it,_ Severus thought, glaring at the owner of the Apothecary, Dobs. This man was the slowest ever to add items for a total. Well, that wasn't entirely true- Severus was being unfair, and he knew it. Still, he did not like to be in Diagon Alley for any period of time, due to the possibility of students seeing him. Or worse- other teachers. He'd be forced to strike up a conversation. Now THAT would be nightmarish.

It had been a couple of weeks since the wizard child had approached him at his home, and he found himself wondering often where the boy actually lived. The child's mother must have hid them well, as he had not been aware of other magical folk living in the neighborhood. Not since…

He shook himself slightly. He was not strong enough, even now, to think about _her_ in the middle of a shop without some reaction. Instead, he focused hard on a small spider trapped in a jar, sure to meet its end very soon.

A majestic, silvery owl suddenly swooped in, delicately placing a package next Dobs, and perching herself grandly nearby. Severus looked at her curiously.

"Ah, Cliodna!" Dobs said heartily. "That means Madam Baker has finished that Essence of Dew for me. Madam Baker is one of my favorite suppliers. She isn't afraid to make some of the more delicate potions."

"Madam Baker, you said?" _Baker? Where have I heard that before?_

"Yes! Have you heard of her? She is one of the top potioneers in Britain- registered in Cokeworth- say, that is where you are from, isn't it? Some kind of potions hub out there?"

"I hardly think two potioneers living in close proximity counts as a "Potions Hub", Dobs."

"I've never met her, but her potions are spectacular. You don't happen to know who she studied with, do you?"

"You are wasting your time and mine, Dobs. I have never met the woman and I would like to go home."

Dobs only smiled mischievously at him, which was infuriating.

"Of course, Professor."

* * *

Harry stood watching the strange house yet again. It was now something he did often- step slowly forward until up grew the house on Spinner's End, then step slowly back until it disappeared once more. It had been two weeks since he'd run into the irate professor. Christmas had come and gone, allowing his worried mother to forget about the possible wizard living nearby, and leaving him safe to survey the house more closely.

On his other trips out, Harry had found that if he continued down Sugar Cove to Mill School Road, and then made a right there, he would eventually reach Spinner's End from there. Mill School Road, if he were to walk in the other direction, would take him to Main Street and the tiny shopping district- an area he was NOT allowed to go to. As far as his mother's maps went, this was as good as uncharted territory, for it was farther out than Spinner's End itself. Upon figuring this out, Harry had spent much of his time wandering around Mill School Road, where the local school and another playground stood, and where it was OK for him to be, hoping he might see Professor Snape passing by on a walk to or from the market. However, it was not to be, and so Harry was back staring out at the man's house, debating on how to get the man to talk to him.

Suddenly, as Harry watched the house grow up yet again, Severus Snape appeared on the walk. He seemed to be slightly off balance and carrying groceries in paper bags, which suddenly spilled everywhere.

Harry was there in an instant- though he didn't know how; he had only wished very hard that he were there and could help pick the groceries up. Professor Snape jumped at the sight of him.

"Baker," he sneered. "I suppose I won't be allowed to refuse your unwanted help picking these up."

Harry suppressed a grin and quickly began picking up the groceries, which he quickly realized were actually potions ingredients AND groceries.

He held up one bottle in wonder and amazement, since it was a rarity he recognized. "Silver wisp," he whispered in awe, placing it in a paper bag with other potions ingredients. "Wow, sir. I've never seen most of this stuff in person before."

If Severus Snape was surprised that the young boy could identify and differentiate between potions ingredients and food, he did not show it. "Your mother is an experienced potioneer, I take it?"

Harry laughed. "Oh yes, Mum loves to brew potions! She's even taught me how to enhance the original recipes of some of the simpler ones. It's mostly charms she doesn't like. Dad didn't care for potions, but he was pretty great at charms, so they make her sad. Mum sometimes provides for apothecaries, though. It's how we've lived this long without leaving the house."

"Which potions has she taught you to brew?"

"She taught me to brew Pepper-Up potion, Boil-Remover, a simple Vitamin potion, and some that make candies," Harry said gleefully. "There have been more, but those are the ones I know by heart. I've been brewing since I was five."

Professor Snape was giving him a calculated look, which had started to make Harry nervous, so he turned away and looked out at the street. Lily Potter had taught her son not to stare into the eyes of full-fledged wizards and witches. She had told him that some of them could read thoughts, and that, if they knew who he was, both of them could be in danger. Severus Snape was shocked when his light mind probe was met by just enough resistance to allow the boy to turn away before he could learn anything from him. If he had been using his wand and casting, he could have broken through the boy's barriers without making eye contact, but as it was he did not want the child to be suspicious of him.

It was strange that a child so young should be able to resist even the lightest touch, however. Children's minds were very open and susceptible, usually. This boy had had some training, which was perhaps complemented by experience hiding thoughts and feelings from his mother.

"Your mother has taught you well," Professor Snape said softly. The boy was obviously a talented wizard already, and would be very much ahead in potions once he reached first year, not to mention his potential for Occlumency. For the first time, Professor Snape looked forward to teaching, in the distant future, Evan Baker. Somehow he knew it would be fun to challenge the boy beyond the usual first year, and he was eager to see how he would respond.

"She does her best," agreed Harry, "although I wish she would let me out more. Now that I'm helping her brew, we run out of potions supplies very quickly during the week, and there isn't much else to do since I've read every book in the house that I'm allowed to, and Mum doesn't let me spend hours in front of the telly."

"You watch muggle television?"

"Yes," Harry said happily, "and it's not like books, because in books you imagine your own world to go with a story and its characters, but television makes it come to life in a whole new way. It's like its own sort of magic. Mum says wizards don't have stuff like that."

"No, they do not. What do you watch on television?"

"I really like cartoons, especially American cartoons and movies, but I also like to watch Doctor Who and James Bond and Back to the Future and-"

Professor Snape held up a hand to stop him. "I can see you're rather cultured," he said wryly. "Shouldn't you be running off back to your mother, young man? From what I've heard of her, I can hardly think she would allow you to remain out this late."

Harry shrugged. "She doesn't usually notice, as long as I'm home before dark. She gets really into her brewing- sometimes she doesn't even know I've come home. But I should probably head back."

He turned to go, just as Professor Snape began to head into his house, but turned around upon remembering something.

"Professor," he called, "if- if I wanted to learn about more advanced potions, and to see more magic, could- could I come over and, um, could you teach me?"

His pleading eyes held a hunger that Severus Snape recognized. He was desperate. Maybe not as desperate as Severus was in childhood, but his mother, though loving, was probably depressed and sad. His childhood had been rather isolated so far. The boy clung to anyone in whom he saw hope, even if that person was terribly scary.

"Maybe," sneered the professor, shutting the door and leaving the boy outside in the cold yet again- only this time, both smiled as they walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

**And so it goes. Here is where old Snape gets a bit more OOC, so if OOC Snape bugs you, your warning appears here. Again, if you don't mind, I don't either ;)**

 **I am still stuck at home, now more because of the curfew than the water(it's currently 10pm, curfew in my area is dusk-dawn). My Partner's birthday was today, and I am sad to have missed it, but they seem to have had a good day. Moreover, we celebrated our own way over the phone. They've been worried about me, though.**

 **As for you, dear reader, I assure you I am fine. A bit tired of being cooped up, but fine. As I write this, my family is gathering more supplies for tomorrow for the evacuees, as some of our neighbors have been able to leave home(it's Texas- the majority of vehicles are raised trucks) and bring materials to nearby shelters. Here is a chapter for you, so that I can return to that task.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Lily Potter was in the process of distractedly tucking her only son into bed when he surprised her.

"Mum," he asked, "will you tell me a story?"

Lily laughed. "Oh, Harry," she said, ruffling his messy hair, "you haven't asked me that in a while. I was beginning to worry you were too old for such things."

"No one's too old for stories, Mum," Harry said, also smiling, wishing he could hear his mother's laugh more often.

"Alright, my silly Harry. What do you want to hear about?"

"An adventure," Harry said immediately.

Lily smiled. "Well, when I was about your age, I had plenty of adventures right here in this house. Do you want to hear about one of those?"

"Yes please!"

"Very good, Harry," Lily replied, as praise for her son's manners. "Well, when I was little, I knew a wizard boy, and we used to do magic together, right here in this room."

Harry's eyes were wide. "Was that my Dad?"

Lily smiled sadly. "No, Harry. I met your Dad much, much later."

Harry visibly deflated. "Oh."

"My friend and I loved to make things fly around the room. He was not very good at it, though. I had much more control over my accidental magic than he did."

Harry nodded. His mother had told him not to be disappointed when he found that he could not yet control his magic. Most people couldn't, and they were still very good at it once they got their wands, she had said.

"He was quite a bit better than me once we got to school and started doing real spells," she told him, "but there was one time, here in this room, when he tried much too hard."

Lily's face held a mischievous grin.

"What happened?"

"Well, he scrunched his face up, like this-" Lily scrunched her own face up in a way that made her son burst into giggles- "and he held his breath, and I turned to look at the object he was focused on. When I turned back, his entire head had blown up like a balloon!"

"It _did_?" Harry asked.

"Yes. It looked like those "Air-Head" commercials that come on the telly. As soon as he realized what was happening, his head deflated, but his entire face was bright red the rest of the day!"

Harry laughed, imagining a nameless child such as himself with a ridiculously large head. "Was he ok?" he asked gleefully.

"Oh, sure. His pride was injured, of course, but he made up for it later by trouncing me in Chess. And now it is time for you to go to bed, young man, lest your own head blow up like a balloon from you concentrating so hard on staying awake," Lily put in, smiling.

Harry sighed and leaned back into the covers while his mother tucked him in and turned out the light. Just before she left, Harry spoke again.

"Mum… Whatever happened to your friend, the wizard boy? Is he still alive?"

There was a pause, as Lily debated on what to tell her son. Though she did not actually know of Severus Snape's true status, to her, the little wizard boy who had accidentally ballooned his own head had died long ago.

"No, Harry," she answered softly. "He died while we were in school."

And on that, she turned and left the room, leaving Harry with a bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *

"Professor? Are you home?"

It was the afternoon. Harry had just had lunch and was now knocking on Professor Snape's door, hoping he could spend time with the older man and perhaps learn about more advanced potions and magic. Then he remembered the boy whose head had ballooned, and thought the magic might could wait, but the potions couldn't.

Finally the professor opened the door, seeming a bit grumpy. "Baker," he spat, and Harry knew he had picked the absolute wrong time.

"Y-yes, Professor?" he answered, shrinking back in fear.

Professor Snape sighed and pinched his nose. He took a deep breath.

"Come inside, Baker," he said, sounding resigned. Harry, delighted, bounced past him into the home. "Yes, Professor," he exclaimed as he did so, much less terrified, much more at ease.

Severus Snape did not own a television, but he did have a radio, and walls and walls of books. Harry stood mesmerized in the doorway, staring around the many shelves. He was certain most of these books would not be the same as the ones his mother owned.

"Please sit on the sofa, Mr. Baker, and have a cup of tea," Professor Snape told him, sending an extra teacup to the table. He tried not to smile at the amazed look the young boy had, watching the teacup move across the room on its own. He followed it to the in-table and sat down delicately on the sofa, as though he might shatter it.

"Is there anything in particular you wish to know, Mr. Baker?" Professor Snape asked, lazily flicking his wand and banishing the stack of essays he had been grading to a box in the corner.

Harry tore his wide eyes away from the box and looked to the Professor. "Can you teach me that?" he asked, forgetting all about his earlier thoughts on difficult spells.

Professor Snape frowned. "Channeling magic without a wand is extremely difficult, Baker, even for an experienced wizard. As much as I dislike children, I must admit I would rather not have harm come to you on my account."

"Erm," was all that Harry could reply. He didn't quite understand the words the Professor was using.

"You could hurt yourself," Professor Snape said impatiently.

"Oh," Harry said, suddenly remembering his mother's story. "My mother told me a story last night about a boy who tried a bit of magic that was too hard for him, and his head blew up like a balloon. I guess he was straining too hard, or something."

Professor Snape, for just a moment, appeared shocked and surprised, but quickly recovered, and did not ask to hear the entire story. "Straining does not help to cast spells," he said instead. "Intense focus and concentration on what you are doing, yes, but holding your breath and trying to just _make_ something happen simply does not work."

"Do a lot of kids blow themselves up like that, Professor?" Harry asked, curious.

"Unfortunately so, but most of them are also able to deflate themselves. I have seen a rare few students at Hogwarts go to the infirmary to be deflated, however. I myself attempted wandless summoning charms as a child and found myself in the same predicament once."

Harry's little eyes were wide. "You did? Did it hurt, Professor?"

"No. I did not notice until I looked into a mirror and saw that my head was six times its normal size. I would encourage you to avoid such a thing, though. Just because I was not injured does not mean you would not be."

Harry pouted at this, but sipped his tea quietly, without complaint.

"Is there something you wish to learn, Mr. Baker?" asked the Professor once more, beginning to sound irritated again.

Harry looked at the books around him. "I want to help my mother," he said quietly. "I don't know exactly what I want to help her with, but I want to. And I want to learn more. Can…"

He hesitated, looking over to make sure the Professor was still listening. "Can I read some of your books, sir?"

Professor Snape seemed slightly shocked. He considered Harry for a moment, carefully eyeing him for what seemed like forever before finally saying, "You may, but you must tell me which titles you are interested in before opening them, as some of them may not be appropriate for you. If you can tell me what potions your mother provides to the apothecary, I may know how to brew them to be more effective, though I doubt you will be able to help very much with those. As for learning magic… You will learn magic when you turn eleven and begin your schooling at Hogwarts, if your mother agrees. However, I can teach techniques that will help you focus, and I can teach you how to study and to write essays. That will put you ahead of your peers once you enter school, and perhaps save me at least one headache each week."

"Will you tell me about Hogwarts, sir?"

Professor Snape's mouth twitched. "Perhaps. Part of the intrigue of Hogwarts is not knowing all of its secrets until you get there."

Harry made a face. "That's what Mum says, only I just thought she didn't want to talk about it because… Because of Dad."

The boy looked into his tea. "I wish I knew him. Mum won't talk about him, and I've never known anyone else who knew him."

"If he was a wizard, I might have known him," mused Professor Snape. "What was his name?"

Harry looked up nervously. "Mum won't tell me his full name. I think she's afraid I'll start talking about him, and then people will know who we are, and then-"

"-you would both be in danger. Yes, Mr. Baker, you've said so often."

Harry nodded, taking his last sip of tea and setting down his teacup. "I have to leave by six o'clock if I want to make it home before my mother starts to worry. Can I… Can I read one of your books?"

Professor Snape gestured to his shelves. "You are welcome to search for something that interests you. Please avoid breaking the antique ornaments that I have as decorations here, however," the Professor grouched, sneering slightly out of habit.

"I promise to be careful," Harry said.

"And remember what I said about these books. Not all of them are OK for you."

"Yes sir."

After searching the shelves, Harry found, in a corner, an old collection of Little House books. He had read the first, of course, as his mother had it in her collection, but he hadn't known there were more. He took them to the Professor at once.

The professor raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you want to learn more about potioneering, Baker?"

Harry blushed. "Yes, sir, it's just… I didn't know there was more than one. Can I read these first?"

Severus sighed. This was a child, after all, and a smart one. After a moment, he begrudgingly approved them, and soon Harry was quietly reading on the sofa, next to the fire, while the Professor graded essays.

"Mr. Baker," Professor Snape broke him from his reading spree, "it is about time for you to leave."

Harry looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 5:45. "Can I mark my place and continue tomorrow, sir?"

Professor Snape looked at the clock as well, not wanting to look at the boy's face. "I must return to school tomorrow," he said quietly. "I will not be here."

Harry tried to keep tears from springing into his eyes. The professor was the closest thing to a friend he had made in his entire life, as far as he could remember.

Finally, Professor Snape looked at him. "If you like the books that much, you may take them home with you, Evan. I daresay I read them enough as a child, and do not need them anymore. You may also pick out one other book to take with you, as I know you originally were searching for something more academic."

Harry looked at him with his wide, watery green eyes, which had not been glamoured. Professor Snape was taken aback by their likeness to that of a friend from his past.

"Really, sir?"

The Professor nodded, expressionless. Harry broke into a grin, and tackled the alarmed Professor in a hug.

"Thank you, thank you!" he exclaimed, letting go before the man could react. He quickly dashed back to the shelves, picking up a book on Potions theory, which quickly earned the Professor's nod of approval. "I promise I'll be careful with them, and I'll return them next time you're home, sir!"

"I will be here for the Easter holidays," Professor Snape said.

"See you then, Professor," Harry cried happily, hugging the books tightly to his chest and bounding out the door, drunk on happiness. He had books. And not just any books, but the Little House on the Prairie books, and he could take them home and read them, and to him, they were new.

Severus thought to himself that during Easter, perhaps he should show the boy where the library was, but also knew he might miss the company of the child who knew about potions and liked to learn new things.


	4. Chapter 4

**The more I re-read and re-edit what I've written of this, the more it seems like Harry will be more of a trouble to keep in character than Snape will. However... We do know that Harry was rather good at adapting to new situations in his earlier years, so perhaps his dramatically different upbringing can explain these odd quirks of his. And as for Snape, there is no living person tying him to Lily this time around, so perhaps rather than manipulate the man into continuing to work for him, Dumbledore spent more time helping him to heal.**

* * *

By mid March, Harry had read through Professor Snape's collection of Little House books four times each. He had grown tired of making the house disappear and reappear, and had taken to exploring the woods, collecting strange plants and pretending to himself that they were potions ingredients. Sometimes he made mud-pies out of them, other times he tried summoning them from short distances- never trying too hard, of course, lest he make his head explode and have to explain his red face to his mother. And occasionally, he even succeeded.

Every day was a day closer to Easter, and Harry found himself marking off days on the calendar, counting down slowly and methodically as he did. His mother had thrown herself into her potions work, which was both lucky and unlucky for Harry, for although she did not spend enough time with him to notice that he had new books from nowhere, she also did not spend enough time with him to really be considered parental. Harry guessed that perhaps she felt he was now more or less able to take care of himself, and that she didn't like thinking about things that reminded her of his Dad. Even the job of glamouring him up before an outing, she had found a way to place on the pendant instead, and he came and left so quietly that he was certain she never actually knew whether or not he was there most of the time. It was becoming a rather sad existence for him. He missed his mother.

He missed Professor Snape, too. The snarky old man paid attention to him, and Harry couldn't wait to learn from him. He felt a little bad about lying to the Professor about his identity, but he knew he still may not be safe. Harry wished he had borrowed more books, but he had begun to focus on memorizing those potions books his mother owned which she had deemed suitable for him, and he was hoping to impress the Professor with his knowledge.

Finally the Easter holidays began, the first morning of which Harry rushed to the Professor's home, pendant swinging and books in his hands. He knocked eagerly at the door, grinning.

* * *

It was the first morning of the Easter holiday, and Severus Snape was pacing his front room like a caged tiger.

The brat was sure to show up today, and then what? Lucius had sent him an owl the previous evening- "Urgent Business," he claimed. But Evan was apparently on the run from Death Eaters- how was Severus going to explain away the young boy's inevitable appearance?

He was still lost in thought when Lucius showed up through the Floo, Draco in tow. He was still thinking about what to tell them, still exchanging pleasantries, when he heard an eager knock at the door and swore in his mind, whilst outwardly excusing himself to answer.

Professor Snape opened the door quickly, ushered Harry in and glanced around before shutting the door. Once it was closed, he looked at Harry with a glare that was both stern and cautious. Harry, who was used to the professor's harsh expressions, found himself able to stand his ground without wanting to shrink.

"Baker," he began quietly, "I have company today. You may come in, but these people are not people you should let your guard down in front of."

He paused and glanced into the hall, then stood straight and shut his eyes. Harry was slightly startled by a voice rattling through his mind, and used the doorway to steady himself.

 _Talk very little, and address me as Master Snape. If the man asks who you are, tell him I am your mother's colleague and friend. It is very important that these people think that you are from a prominent magical family, Evan. Do you understand?_

Harry nodded numbly. He was afraid, but he knew Professor Snape would keep him safe. He followed Professor Snape into the sitting room, where his entire demeanor changed.

"You will have to wait for the ingredients your mother has requested," Professor Snape declared as they walked down the hall. "I have business with Mr. Malfoy first. I assume that will be acceptable."

Harry nodded again. "Yes, Master Snape."

"You will remain in the sitting room with Draco while I take care of matters with Mr. Malfoy," Professor Snape declared, waving his arm at the room around him. "The bookshelves are charmed so that any books you should not be reading will not come off the shelves. You may help yourself to a cup of tea if you wish."

He then narrowed his eyes into a glare at both Harry and the other boy in the room, whom he guessed was probably Draco. "If you break anything, Merlin help you. Both of you will behave such as young men should, or you will certainly regret ever stepping into my home."

He then turned and went into the kitchen, where Lucius Malfoy sat at the table sipping tea, and let the door click softly behind him.

Draco Malfoy scoffed and flopped himself on the couch in a way that certainly did not befit a young man of his caliber. "Dramatic bat, isn't he?" he grumbled.

Harry frowned at the boy. He had possessions in his own room which he dealt with carefully, as they were his father's and he didn't want them broken. Of course, he couldn't speak for Professor Snape's possessions, but he thought he at least understood the wish to keep his possessions out of harm's way.

Draco turned and looked at Harry, as if noticing him for the first time. "Who are you?" he asked, with such disdain that Harry found it hard to reply civilly.

"Evan," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco announced, although Harry already knew his name and hadn't asked for an introduction. "I'm a pureblood."

"So?"

Draco jumped up as though he'd been slapped. "So? So my family's really old and has more gold than you could even dream of!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You think my family's penniless? You don't even know what my blood status is. For all you know, I could be from the oldest bloodline ever."

"Yeah right," grumbled Draco, flopping back onto the sofa.

Harry knew he was considered a half-blood. His mother had explained bloodlines and blood status to him when she had told him about the war. Personally, Harry thought it was all sort of rubbish. His mother was an amazing Muggle Born witch, and Draco, this supposed Pureblood, was one of the most sour people he had ever met.

By the time Professor Snape entered the sitting room with Lucius Malfoy, Harry had found a potions ingredients encyclopedia explaining many ingredients used in simple potions and their effects and the different ways to prepare them and whether that changed their effects. While Draco had spent his time fiddling with some odd ornament, Harry had read all of the information on five different ingredients when he was interrupted by the sound of the door softly clicking open.

Draco sat up quickly and, upon seeing his father, stood. "Father," he said with a serious nod.

"Draco," Lucius acknowledged. "I trust you behaved yourself."

"Yes, Father," Draco's polite voice was almost robotic, as though he had rehearsed this phrase from birth onwards. Harry frowned at the exchange.

"Lucius," cut in Professor Snape, "allow me to introduce you to my neighbor, Evan Baker. Baker often runs errands for his mother, Madam Baker, a potions master who lives nearby. Evan, this is Lucius Malfoy."

Harry stood quickly and walked up to Lucius, holding out his hand. Lucius gave it a quick squeeze, and dropped it just as quickly with a slight nod to Harry.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," Harry said, recalling the high manners he had been taught by his mother and Gram to use when being introduced to others.

"And yours, Mr. Baker," said Lucius. He turned to Snape. "Lending out ingredients, Severus? This seems so unlike you."

The good professor thought quickly. "I owe her for her aid with a project of mine. I am sure you can understand such matters, Lucius."

Lucius nodded with approval. Apparently, deals such as that were common.

"Draco, come."

Draco moved as though imperiused, trailing after his father straight out the door.

After they had left, Professor Snape seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"So," he began, turning to Harry, "what did you think of Draco Malfoy, Evan?"

Harry made a face. "I didn't like him, sir."

"And why not?"

"He was just so... Arrogant and pretentious, sir, yet trained like a dog to follow his father. It was unbearable."

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. Then, to Harry's surprise, he snorted.

"Never have I heard a Malfoy described so accurately- from a nine year old no less. I would advise you, however, not to make enemies out of that particular family. The Malfoys were known supporters of the Dark Lord."

A chill ran down Harry's spine as he realized exactly how much danger he had been in. He had, in a sense, shaken hands with the devil. He took a shaky breath and said, "Professor, if they had known who I was, I don't think I would have been able to avoid turning them into my enemies."

Professor Snape gave him a long, silent look, as though trying to discover who he was. He did not respond, however. "Which book did you occupy yourself with, then?"

Harry held up the potions encyclopedia, which was old but in good condition. He did not miss the pained expression that flitted across the Potion's Master's face.

"Ah," he murmured, "good choice. This book will provide you with useful insight into the deeper nature of potion making."

He opened the front cover and traced his fingers lightly over a note that had been written into it. Harry, who had not noticed the note before, peered over to read it.

 _Happy Christmas, Sev! I saw this book in Flourish and Blotts and I just knew you would love it! Make sure you visit us some time today. Tuney's been horrible all week, and Mum and Dad have been asking about you._

 _Love,_

 _Lily_

"This book was a Christmas gift from a dear friend of mine during my first year of Hogwarts," Professor Snape reminisced softly. "I had nearly forgotten about it."

He handed it back to Harry, who took it delicately, aware that the writer of this note shared a name with his mother. "What happened to her, sir?"

Professor Snape turned away. "The Dark Lord himself went after her. She was murdered almost ten years ago now."

So, not Harry's mother. "I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, and he meant it.

"She would have liked you quite a bit," Professor Snape mused. He thought to the Little House books the boy had borrowed, which had come back in a better condition than they had left in, and made up his mind. "Why don't you keep that as reference for a while? I daresay you will need it if you truly wish to prove yourself capable in the art of brewing..."

Harry grinned and thanked the Professor. "I promise I'll keep it safe, sir."

The rest of Harry's time at Professor Snape's house passed without incident. He found himself intrigued by some of the stranger properties of certain ingredients and had begun a list of questions to ask the professor on a parchment he had been given for that very purpose.

* * *

Harry returned home with the book under his arm and carefully hid it in his room before running down to greet his mother.

Lily Evans-Potter turned from the potion she was brewing in the lab and smiled at her son. "Harry! I'm glad you're back. Come see what the apothecary requested this month."

Harry climbed up to the stool next to where his mother was standing and peered into the cauldron. It was the most beautiful potion he had ever seen. It seemed to be a glittering purple and orange haze, which swirled and floated inside the cauldron.

"What is it, Mum?" he asked, awestruck.

"It's a type of healing potion called Breath of Purity. It cleanses most potions from the system, especially those which are malicious. It won't work on some of the darker magiks, though. In a moment I'm going to add three drops of Pheonix tears, and it will settle into a liquid which I can bottle."

"What does it taste like?"

Lily looked up from the cauldron, thinking. "Let's see... I had to take some in my sixth year after a potions accident. It tasted like cold strawberries. It was very refreshing, and I felt light and happy the rest of the week."

"Why can't we take some, then?"

Lily smiled. "I have exactly three vials in case of emergency, Harry, but taking too much or taking it when you don't need it can cause memory loss. That's why it's important that you only take it when you need to. That goes for any and all potions, Harry."

Harry nodded. His mother had lectured him over the dangers of taking potions willy-nilly quite a few times. He didn't think he was likely to ever do it, but then, there were plenty of things he hadn't thought likely before this year.


	5. Chapter 5

**Shorter chapter here. This took me a bit to fix up- I had a completely different version of this chapter laid out before, so different that it would be unrecognizable now. Actually, after this chapter, everything I'm writing is new(not written several months ago as the rest has been), but I am excited to see where this goes, and I had already written plenty of scenes for future moments in this story, so not to worry. Chapters should still be coming out rather quickly at least until Tuesday(when I go back to work).**

* * *

By the time Summer started, Harry had memorized several of the properties of ingredients in the encyclopedia, and had even done some experimenting with some of the less-potent ingredients in the potions he knew how to brew, to see what the effects would be and whether they held true to the things he had read in the encyclopedia. He knew it was somewhat pointless, as all of them reacted exactly the way he expected them to, but he took notes anyway, and filed away the reactions in his mind.

His mother was still glued to her own potions work, but now that he too was immersed in his own little experiments, he hardly noticed anymore. The exception was at bedtime, when, around 10pm, Harry usually accepted that it was far past his bedtime and his mother wasn't coming to tuck him in. Occasionally she still did, and she still told him stories when he asked.

On one such night, Harry was glad when his mother appeared at 9:15, right as he was climbing into bed to wait for her. He noticed she had already removed the glasses she usually wore, and briefly wondered whether it had to do with her potions work that day.

"Harry," she said, as if not entirely registering that he was there, "are you ready for bed?"

Harry nodded. Lily crossed the room to him and kissed his forehead lightly, rubbing her thumb against his scar distractedly. She always knew where it was, no matter the fact that she kept it constantly covered by a flesh-colored patch she'd found in a muggle store.

"Mum, tell me about your friends at Hogwarts," Harry asked eagerly. He was just a nine year old boy, and he still dreamed of having friends his own age.

Lily sat down beside him on the bed, tucking his covers up to his chin. "Well, there was Mary, Remus, Alice, Frank..."

Her voice trailed off. Harry didn't press on. He knew that Alice and Frank had been injured in their heads, as his mother said, and were forever confined to St. Mungo's.

"Who else? What about Dad and his friends?"

Lily smiled sadly. "Your Dad was very close to Remus, Sirius, and... Peter." Lily added Peter's name like a bitter afterthought.

"Were all of your friends in Gryffindor, Mum?"

Lily ignored this question at first. She stared at the wall of the room she used to live in, where one of her favorite posters was hanging. It was a play poster made to advertise a Hogwarts production of The Fountain of Fair Fortune.

Harry looked uneasily to where his mother was staring, hard, at the witches and knight that danced around the fountain. "...Mum?"

"It's late," Lily said, standing and smoothing out the area on the bed spread where she'd sat down.

"It's 9:30," Harry said, sitting up and twiddling his thumbs.

Lily sat back down and sighed, a pained expression crossing her face. "Do you remember the friend I told you about who lived near my house, who I met before I went to Hogwarts?"

"The one who blew his head up?"

"Yes. He was a Slytherin."

Harry pondered this information for a moment. "Was he good, though, Mum?"

Lily pressed Harry back into bed and tucked him in a second time, kissing his forehead. "I think he was, Harry. Goodnight, my love. Sleep well."

She left. Harry thought about the mysterious Slytherin boy extensively before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Baker?"

"What house were you in at Hogwarts?"

There was a pause. Professor Snape had been discussing the four houses with Harry, explaining the good qualities(and his pet peeves) in each.

"Slytherin," he replied.

"Oh," said Harry. "My Mum was in Gryffindor. So was my Dad."

"Hmm," Professor Snape said, rolling his eyes. "And I suppose you hope to be in Gryffindor as well?"

"I don't know," said Harry thoughtfully. "I don't really mind as long as I get along with the people in my house, and make lots of friends."

"Draco Malfoy will probably go to Slytherin," the professor mused.

Harry wrinkled his nose at that. "Ugh. Wherever I go, I hope it's not with him."

"I would expect you would be mature enough to handle the likes of Draco," Professor Snape said. And it was true.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. Mum had a friend in Slytherin. She said he was good."

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. "Did she say who this friend was?"

"Mum never says his name."

"I suppose she may be trying to protect him. Slytherins who went against the Dark Lord were often targets during the war. If she worries still for the two of you, she probably worries for him as well."

Harry glared at the floor. "I hate him," he said angrily. "He took so much... He killed my father, and now my Mum is always afraid..."

Professor Snape didn't say anything, only thought of the young friend he had once played with just outside those walls, and after a moment, he went back to the book he was reading. Harry slowly relaxed, cooling down enough to go back to his research on alternatives to the potions ingredient Cara Bean.

At the end of Harry's time at Professor Snape's home, he set down his notes and closed his book.

"What have you learned?" the professor asked, without looking up from his own book.

"In some potions, the Cara Bean can be replaced by the Caymana Bean. Most of those potions become weaker as a result, but still usable. In the Draught of Living Death, the Caymana Bean causes the potion to strengthen, but that's an-" Harry glanced at his notes here "-undesirable effect."

"Why would it be undesirable to have a stronger Draught of Living Death?"

"Because... Because it could put the drinker in a coma from which they would never awaken, sir."

Professor Snape nodded. "You may see yourself out. Should I expect you tomorrow?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. It's... My birthday is soon, sir. Mum is taking me shopping early."

Professor Snape looked up, narrowing his eyes at the wall across from him. A memory clawed at him, at the edges of his mind, like an itch. _Born as the seventh month dies._ But this was June, not July. He shook the thought. "Where?"

"Um… I'm not sure if I should say… but Mum said it's in Scotland."

Hogsmeade, then. "Hmm. Until next time, then."

Harry sighed and left the house. He did like the professor, and he knew his birthday was technically _next_ month. But he wished he'd gotten some kind of response indicative of the excitement of turning ten.

* * *

It was just after sunrise that the two remaining Potters, both disguised with blond wavy hair and bright blue eyes, floo'd to the old Hogshead.

Lily Potter was not entirely keen on having her son anywhere inside the place, but it was much too early in the morning for most drinkers. As she expected, the entire place was empty save for Abe, who hadn't stirred from his slumber in a chair behind the bar.

"Now remember," Lily began, crouching to Harry's level, "you must answer only to Evan Baker. Do not so much as turn your head to the names Harry, James, or Potter. My name is Belinda. If we somehow become separated, press your middle finger to your pendant and stay where you are so that I can find you."

With Harry's mute nod of compliance, she opened the door and lead both of them out into the streets.

Hogsmeade in summer time was a beautiful sight to behold. Lily herself had rarely seen the place outside school visits, which were usually held in colder months. She found herself admiring the beauty of the little village, something her son was also currently doing from his place beside her.

They were jolted from their reverie, however, by a figure who'd apparently just apparated nearby.

The figure immediately knocked into Lily, which knocked the glasses from her face. Harry didn't get a chance to pick them up before his mother staggered and stepped on them.

"Sorry," muttered the irate wizard, pushing past them towards the Three Broomsticks.

"And that's all the bastard can seem to say," Lily muttered angrily, looking off in the general direction of the stomping man.

"Mum, your glasses," Harry began nervously.

Lily sighed. "Least he could've done," she muttered. "Just pick them up, Evan. I can see well enough not to hurt myself."

Harry did as he was told, wishing his mother would just fix them with magic. It was just a simple charm- he'd read about it himself. Perhaps using her wand still made her too sad, and she, like Harry, knew that this day was supposed to be happy and hiding the sadness would be better.

Hogsmeade was far from crowded, but there were several early morning shoppers already going about their day.

"You pick where we go first, Evan," Harry heard his mother say. His spirits lifted as he searched for somewhere interesting to visit.

"There," he exclaimed, "It says 'Honeydukes,' and there's candy in the window. Mum, please, let's go there first."

Lily laughed, a sound that, if possible, lifted Harry's spirits even more. "My silly boy," she chuckled, "you'll spoil your lunch! But alright, alright, Honeydukes it is."


	6. Chapter 6

Of all the places Harry Potter expected to run into Severus Snape during the summer on his birthday trip, Honeydukes was last on the list. However, shockingly, while he and his mother were looking at chewy candies that caused you to make various different animal noises depending on the flavor, it was the Professor who walked through the door.

Harry's head turned automatically to see who had walked in, and was shocked to see the professor. He started to lift his hand to say hello, but then remembered himself and turned back around.

"Fancy seeing you here," called the store owner cheerfully. Harry was thinking the same thing, pretending to be interested in another candy nearby as he inched closer to them. "What brings the surely Hogwarts Potions Professor into the candy store today, hm?"

"The Headmaster has been… hinting… about his approaching birthday," sneered the professor, already regretting his decision to enter the shop.

"It'll be Droobles for him, then," laughed the old shopkeeper.

"Actually," Harry was surprised to hear his mother's voice, "I believe the good Headmaster prefers Sherbet Lemon."

Harry, who had assumed his mother would be keeping her head down this visit, was shocked to see her walk right up to the counter where Severus Snape stood and extend her hand, which the professor immediately took- out of politeness, of course.

"I'm Belinda Baker," she introduced. "This is my son, Evan. Evan, do come here."

Harry was by her side in seconds, practically jumping with excitement, grinning at his neighbor from ear to ear. "Hello, sir," he said, suppressing giggles.

"So you're the Hogwarts potions professor?" she asked. "Your voice sounds familiar; have you been teaching there long?"

"Ten years now today," the professor answered. "I seem to recall an apothecary mentioning your name in Diagon the other day. Would you happen to be Madam Baker, the Potions Mistress?"

"Ah, yes. Dobs, the idiot- can't shut up…" muttered the now somewhat irate woman.

"I must agree," the potions master replied, seeming to be remembering his own interactions with the man. "He mentioned that you happened to be registered in Cokeworth, and I had been considering how to contact you, as I have a few dead projects I've been looking for new insight on."

"Is that so?" Lily asked curiously. "Are you also in Cokeworth, then?"

The professor was about to answer when another family entered the shop, and Harry watched in confusion as a hush fell over them. It was a mother and two children, and they stared the professor down so hatefully that Harry found himself shuddering.

"Serving Death Eaters now, Fraser?" the woman growled.

"Come off it, Babs," the old shopkeeper said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows Professor Snape's been acquitted. Heaven's sake- the war is long over and the man's still just under Dumbledore's nose. He's here buying a birthday present for the Headmaster."

"Probably to poison the trusting old coot," the woman retorted. "Come along, Sam, Martha- we aren't associating with this place any longer. Good thing your father's an American- you won't ever have to worry about the likes of that horrible man teaching you."

"Good riddance," the shopkeeper grumbled as the woman left. He then viewed the Madam's face, and saw that she looked troubled.

"Oh, not you too! Does this man look like a Death Eater to you, woman? A man in a candy shop buying a gift for an elderly wizard?"

Whatever Harry was hoping for, his mother's words dashed it. "Even Death Eaters enjoy sweets," she said harshly.

"Mum-"

"I should have expected as much," the Professor said gripping the counter. He addressed the shopkeeper as he added, "and don't you go trying to defend my actions."

"You're as much Death Eater as I am!" Fraser cried heartily.

"And me!" Harry piped in, though he had no idea the full situation.

"Yet if either of you knew what my actions had caused, what I did before turning spy-"

"You're not bad," Harry insisted, knowing his Mother was currently giving him a confused look. "Mum, please-"

"Evan, that's enough."

The boy silenced himself, but stomped away to sit just outside the shop's entrance, leaving his mother alone and in shock.

She looked to the professor, her vision still quite blurred, for once wishing she could see without her glasses.

"You're Severus Snape, then?"

"Unfortunately," he replied through clenched teeth.

"My son- my only son, all I have- marched out of this shop defending your name."

He didn't look at her.

"My son doesn't know much of wizardkind, Master Snape. But he is generally a decent judge of character."

Severus wasn't sure he agreed, but allowed her to continue.

"I'm not sure why my son is so eager to trust you, but…"

He looked up to see the woman staring out the shop towards her son, who was kicking at rocks.

"That is my only son. I would move mountains to keep him safe, and I refuse to lose him in the process. And for all I know- he could be right."

She looked back to the man, whose sad, disbelieving eyes were lost to her in her blurry world.

"Should you prove untrustworthy, understand that I will do everything in my power to see you _destroyed._ "

And with that, she marched to the shop's entrance. Right as she opened the door, she turned back for just a moment.

"I expect to see you for lunch at the Three Broomsticks at noon, if you still wish to have my help with those projects."

The professor nodded.

The boy, who was just barely in view, widened his eyes in shock.

The shopkeeper shot a grim look toward the doorway.

The woman shut it and left.

* * *

"Is Professor Snape really, really meeting us for lunch?"

Lily Potter sighed, wondering again if she had made the wrong decision in deciding to give the man a chance. "I don't know, Evan. And I'm curious as to why you are so keen on trusting this man," she added with a stern look in her son's direction.

Her son shot her an innocent look back. "He lives close by, doesn't he? I recognize him. I saw him walking once from the market. Hard to forget in those clothes. I'd no idea he was a wizard though, Mum!"

Lily frowned. Was Severus really still living in that awful house? She recalled that he had been only too eager to move away from it, before they'd fallen apart as friends. Was he there taking care of his mother, Eileen? Lily imagined seeing the poor, frail woman now, and wondered if she'd survived the war. Or could he be taking care of Tobias, the nastiest muggle she'd ever had the displeasure to meet next to Vernon Dursley?

And… spy?

There were so many things she seemed to have missed.

She'd known he'd been acquitted, but… Spy? And he seemed so truly torn apart with remorse, for the things he had done during the war.

Perhaps he truly had changed.

"Muuuuuuuuum," Harry called exasperatedly, "are you even listening?"

Lily snapped out of her thoughts.

"I apologize, Evan. I was lost in my own thoughts. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you'd ever seen anything like this," Harry said, holding up what must have been a colorful quill.

"Nothing quite so brightly colored. Is it self-inking?"

"Yes, and it dictates and it's color-changing-"

Lily gently plucked the quill out of her son's fingers and gingerly placed it back on the shelf.

"Can we-"

"If you want that, it'll cover the next three of your birthdays, child."

Harry quickly decided the quill was unimportant.

They left Scrivenshaft's and continued to explore the village, Lily still walking with less than sure footing. Luckily, Lily had been able to make an 11am appointment with the magical oculist, who happened to be working out of Dervish and Banges, and so that was where they were headed now.

"Mum, when can I get my own wand?"

"Never," Lily answered automatically. "You're not allowed to grow up."

"Muuuuum," Harry whined.

Lily laughed as she lead her son toward their next destination. "You'll get a wand when you reach first year, silly boy. I thought I'd already told you that."

"Yes, but with Vold- I mean, You-Know-Who..."

Harry instantly regretted bringing up the subject, as he watched his mother's smile vanish. Neither spoke again the rest of the walk down the street, and as a result, Harry felt like it was an eternity before they reached the shop where the oculist waited to see them.

As they entered, the shopkeeper glanced over, looked at the time, and called out, "Gregor!"

At once, a man appeared from the back of the store. He wore a kind smile, and a pair of glasses himself. He thanked the shopkeeper before approaching them.

"Ah, Madam, you must be here for the appointment," the oculist said, adjusting his own spectacles. But he frowned as he stared into her eyes.

"Most peculiar," he murmured.

Harry gave him a confused look. "What is?"

The man looked to Harry, into his eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Interesting. Madam, you said you needed eyeglasses for an adult witch?"

"Myself, yes," Lily answered uneasily.

He shook his head. "This boy here, he is your child?"

"He is my son."

"That explains quite a bit. Madam, I have magically enhanced my eyeglasses to allow me to see into a person's cornea. It makes for a quicker diagnosis, you understand. Your vision should be fine; your son, however, is the one who should need glasses."

Lily stiffened.

"It's nothing to really worry about. Often, protective magical mothers will take over the hardships of their children- it is very rare but not unheard of. For now, you will be the one who needs glasses, but eventually your son will probably receive his vision back, depending on how this is handled."

"I was aware of this matter," she seethed. "I was hoping to spare my son this worry until he grew a bit older, and likely could have, had my privacy not been immediately invaded as I entered the shop."

"With all due respect, Madam, usually both mother and child normalize once the child has been weened. I would have thought you would have told him by now, but I was wrong, and I apologize for that. Now, come and look- I have plenty of styles to choose from…"

Lily hesitated, but grudgingly made her way off with the oculist to the back of Dervish and Banges, where he apparently had a few styles on display, leaving Harry to trail behind them, pondering the implications of this new information.

His mother's vision was supposed to be his, and eventually his eyes would be bad as well. This certainly created new meaning to the answer his mother had given for why she had glasses currently, but not in any old photographs. "Your vision will likely also deteriorate as you grow older," she had said. He had expected this to be a slow deterioration, but for her it must have been sudden, and he found himself feeling guilty.

Although…

There were also photographs with his mother, his father, _and_ himself. And she hadn't worn glasses then, either. There was even a photo of them earlier that awful Halloween night, all wearing Halloween costumes- a muggle tradition, and his mother's idea to celebrate as they hadn't been able to leave home.

And he knew he'd been weened by then.

Perhaps it had something to do with the experience of watching her husband die, in which case Harry didn't want to think much about it. But it was very strange, based on the information the oculist had given.

He rubbed his forehead absently, not realizing or noticing when his mother did the very same.


	7. Chapter 7

Severus Snape arrived at the Three Broomsticks promptly at 12 noon.

He had considered arriving earlier, but didn't want to seem in any way… _desperate_ … for company. Although, the way he was operating now, he had to wonder if there was some desperation hidden there.

He shook himself. Of course there wasn't desperation here. It was only a possibly mutually beneficial business relationship that he was seeking, nothing more. He did not need _friends._

That he was allowing the Baker child into his house on a weekly basis was of no consequence either; the child intrigued him greatly due to his talents. That was _all it was._ Intrigue.

"Professor Snape!" called a young voice from across the room. Severus turned to see the boy and his now-bespectacled mother sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Madam Baker kept her eyes firmly on the menu, and Severus tried to ignore the slight sinking feeling that seemed to settle in his stomach when he looked at her.

"Professor, you're here," Evan exclaimed as the older man sat down. The good professor raised his eyebrows.

"Obviously."

Evan did not shrink from him, something the Professor was still hardly used to. "Mum and I weren't sure you'd come! Mum said Hogwarts professors are often very, very busy, even in _summer._ I thought teachers got holidays in summer."

His mouth twitched at the horrified look the boy was giving him. "Most Hogwarts Professors do other research in their fields on the side. Excepting Binns, of course."

Madam Baker snorted.

"I don't know, perhaps Binns confers with the other ghosts as his own form of research. I know he can't exactly pick up a book, but he can't be doing nothing at all simply because he's a ghost."

She said all of this with her eyes still on the menu.

"There's a professor," began the child in wonder, "who's a _ghost_?"

Neither adult answered him, although Madam Baker grinned at him from behind her menu.

"Wicked," the boy whispered.

"Not really," Madam Baker commented, a grin still spreading across her face. "You'd think he'd be the most exciting professor there, but as it happens, he's incredibly dull."

"Still," Evan amended, eyes wide, lost in thought.

It was then that Rosmerta appeared. Madam Baker ordered Shephard's pie, which she and her son would be splitting. Severus ordered his "usual"- also Shephard's pie, though he hadn't wanted to simply repeat Madam Baker's order. It would have sounded like groveling.

Of course, he didn't know that 'Madam Baker' already knew what his usual was, and had been wondering if he would order it.

"So, good professor _,_ " Madam Baker began, still refusing to meet his eyes and giving a very stony emphasis to the word good, "who did you end up studying with after Hogwarts?"

"Master Borage took me in for my required two years of study," he said.

Madam Baker's eyes went wide. "Libatius Borage? Interesting."

"I will admit, in my school days I thought he was below my level as a potioneer, as our textbook in school was frequently slightly off in its instructions. However, I quickly found that Borage felt that just handing a student the proper instructions was the easy way of doing things and didn't require them to think enough for themselves. The man was curiously brilliant."

"I had noticed that his textbook was off in so many places, myself," mused Madam Baker. "I hadn't thought he could be doing it on purpose, but it makes sense, given that his descriptions of what should happen next in the brewing stages never seemed to match what really happened when one followed his faulty directions. And Slughorn never seemed to have noticed either!"

She laughed out loud at that, but then became suddenly solemn. "Is he- did you-"

"Slughorn is alive and well as far as I am aware," the Professor said, not wanting to delve too deeply into the topic of how he became a teacher. "He simply desired retirement."

To his relief, Madam Baker simply nodded, not asking for further explanation. He noticed that she was still very pointedly not looking at his face, especially not his eyes. He recalled Evan's reaction to his brief mental probing, but her mental defenses had to be stronger than his- there was no way that was the reason she wouldn't look at him. More likely she found herself disgusted, and he tried not to feel too put out by that thought.

"Who did you do your apprenticing under, Madam?"

"I apprenticed and then worked under Madam Slydell over the past… seven or eight years, I believe it's been. Unfortunately, she was very old, and fell ill a little less than a year ago. We were forced to return to the British Wizarding world rather quickly…"

Severus noted that Evan was pretending to ignore this particular subject, and that Madam Baker appeared almost… ashamed. Interesting.

"Madam Slydell was a very well-respected Potions Mistress," the Professor complimented. "I am sorry for the loss."

Evan seemed to be rabidly closing in on himself, and though Severus found this oddly worrying, he didn't know what he could possibly do to stop it.

"So, what projects have you been working on that may have need of my assistance?"

At this question, the boy perked up and placed his attention more obviously back to the adults beside him.

By the time their food arrived, Severus had gotten through the explanation of only one of his projects, and Madam Baker seemed to be less and less stiff around him with every passing moment.

"Professor, why is your hair so greasy?"

Both adults stopped their conversation and stared in shock at the boy. Madam Baker's face was reddening in horror, Severus's looked dangerous. Rosmerta happened to be standing nearby, but neither adults noticed her cover her mouth and run to the back of the pub to have a laugh.

"EVAN," Madam Baker managed, "how could- how could you _possibly_ think that question appropriate?"

Severus noticed the boy wasn't cowering, and a thought occurred to him that Evan Baker had had this question stored up for months, and had simply waited until his mother was around to ask it, having had also a sense of self-preservation.

It didn't prevent Severus from glaring at the boy, but it did prevent him from strangling the little monster on the spot. Evan _did_ cower in fear when he caught sight of the professor's face, and that was enough for him. For now.

"Mr. Baker," the professor growled, breathing deeply, " _perhaps_ you could make an educated guess for us as to the reason why I don't walk around with the ' _soft, flowing locks_ ' heralded in Witch Weekly."

Madam Baker crossed her arms and stared her son down, who was finally cowering slightly.

Harry was _very_ tempted to answer, at the mention of Witch Weekly, that Severus must not want to attract such witches as those who read that dreadful magazine, and that he'd be happy to know Madam Baker despised that kind of literature herself. But he happened to value his life, and his budding companionship with the older man.

"Is it… something to do with what happens when you brew potions, Professor? Is it the fumes going into your hair?"

"You are correct. There are certain shampoos that aid in the removal of potions residue from one's hair, but I myself have always valued other things more highly. Shampoo isn't something I like to waste money on."

"Professor Snape, that's quite reckless of you," Madam Baker sighed. "The residue leftover from potions can have dastardly effects if left unchecked for too long."

"Rinsing with a small amount of horned slug water is effective in neutralizing those effects and preventing anything particularly horrible from befalling my person simply because I refuse to use expensive shampoo," the Professor grumbled.

Madam Baker raised her eyebrows. Severus could tell she was thinking that his 'rinse' was likely contributing to the greasiness of his hair. He had never particularly cared about his hair other than that it was clean, and that he didn't smell. He wasn't about to start caring now.

The subject abruptly dropped from there, and after a few moments, the adults resumed their conversation about their projects, and Severus couldn't help but notice Evan listening intently yet never breathing a word into conversation.

* * *

"Mum, can we invite Professor Snape over some time?"

Lily Potter sighed as she tuck her only son into bed. It had certainly been an odd and exciting day for the child.

"I'm not sure he would be interested, Harry," she told him. "And you must keep in mind, he doesn't know us and can't know us too closely. If he had learned today what our identities were, we could have been in danger. It is better for you to let me work with him from afar than to get too close to him yourself."

Harry took in a deep breath and looked straight at his mother.

"Mum, I- I've been going to his house on my own to borrow books since winter," he exclaimed.

Lily stared. " _What?"_

"He's been teaching me, Mum! He was really grumpy at first, but he let me borrow all the Little House books, and some other potions books, and he's been teaching me how to write proper essays and when the Malfoys came over he protected me from them and-"

"The _WHO_ came over?"

"Mum, he's good, I swear!"

"Harry James Potter, I can't believe you would disobey me so thoroughly! You do not know that man. Severus Snape is _dangerous_."

"Not this, Mum," whined Harry. "Professor Snape's good. I know it."

"No, you know nothing," Lily responded sternly. "Perhaps he really did turn spy, I don't know, but the fact of the matter is that he willingly became a Death Eater. He willingly threw his full support behind a man who murdered muggles and muggle borns. Behind the man who _murdered_ your _father._ "

Harry shrank back from his mother at these words.

"People change," he whispered. "He's good, Mum." He straightened slightly, lifting his chin. "He's good."

For a moment, Lily was lost in a hard staring contest with her son. A contest she swiftly lost.

"Harry, if he shows that he has changed, then perhaps we can let him into our lives. But you are not to visit him anymore without my permission," she insisted. "And I will _know_."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for sticking with me, ya'll! Again, Snape is very OOC, but my running theory is that with both Lily AND Harry dead, he was somewhat less constrained by her memory. So, hopefully this story doesn't break the suspension of disbelief? Eh, still, it's my fantasy world, I like it and I'm going to keep going with it ;)**

* * *

When Harry woke up that morning, it was to the smell of bacon and eggs. He crept down the stairs to find his mother in the kitchen cooking a full breakfast for the two of them, and noticed on the kitchen table the very same Potions Encyclopedia he had borrowed from Professor Snape.

"Good morning, Harry," his mother called over her shoulder with a sad smile. "I saw that book in your room. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to take a look at it myself."

"It's ok, but I'm borrowing it from Professor Snape," Harry said cautiously.

"I know where it came from, Harry," Lily sighed.

She approached the table with two plates of food and placed one in front of her son.

"Harry… Why didn't you tell me sooner that you were going over to Professor Snape's house?"

"Because… he's magic, like we are. You… you mostly avoid magic. I was afraid you would keep me from seeing him because of that. And I knew he could teach me more about potions too, and I wanted to be able to help you more…"

Lily sighed. "I suppose I should at least try to get to know the man. Since you've been spending so much time with him."

Harry brightened considerably. "I've learned loads from him, Mum. He's lent me lots of books."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yes. I read the Little House on the Prairie books first, and some more muggle novels, and he's also lent me potions books, like this encyclopedia. Plus he tells me about Hogwarts sometimes, if he's really impressed with my work. Did you know Hogwarts has a kitchen full of house elves? And that the Slytherin Common room is under the lake?"

Lily smiled at her son. "I did know those things, Harry, but I'm glad you're so excited to have learned them. Why don't you invite the potions master for dinner tonight? We'll make it your birthday dinner, if you want. You can send him a note with Cliodne."

"Really? Can I send it now? Do you think he'll be awake, Mum?"

Lily laughed. "Most Potions Masters are up by nine, I would say. But finish your breakfast first- hey, not _too_ fast!"

Severus was sipping his tea, deep in thought. Baker was exceptional for a nine-year-old. He had tutored many pureblood children, and rarely did he meet a child so eager to learn, who absorbed information the way Evan did. The child was relatively unphased by his often-sour mood, and Severus saw himself slightly paralleled in the boy- as if this child lived the life he would have lived had his father died when he was young. A loving but relatively absent mother, a few special possessions that he kept safe and secret, and almost no friends.

He was startled out of his thoughts by none other than Cliodne, the owl from the apothecary that he had met many months ago. It was difficult to forget the silvery blue feathered creature, which had come along with the fact that there was a high-leveled, talented potioneer nearby. He read the boy's note with disdain. He had been invited to a birthday party- of all things!

Attached was another note. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar. He tried to remember seeing it on the package Cliodne had delivered to Dobs.

 _Professor,_

 _I regret that in our initial meeting I was somewhat cold. I am willing to consider that I misjudged your character._

 _My son has only just informed me that he has been visiting you, and learning from you. I want to tell you that I greatly appreciate your acknowledgment and kindness toward him. I regret that I have been relatively absent for him emotionally since his father's death. Throwing myself into my work has allowed me to pretend the rest of the world and my past is nonexistent- but we can only do that for so long._

 _I would be delighted to have another Potions master in my home. It would be an honor to speak with you again, and my son would be delighted to have you here._

 _-Belinda Baker_

It seemed Madam Baker had finally learned of Evan's visits. He wondered if young Evan had gotten into great trouble over it. He hoped he could ease the woman's fears- the boy really was rather exceptional.

Severus shook his head. What was the world coming to? Since when did he go to childrens' birthday parties?

But this was clearly just a "dinner"- and there was only one child involved- surely it wouldn't be overly festive? Aside from that, Belinda Baker was a Potions Master as well. It was rare indeed to be able to work with another one of those, and especially one so highly praised by Dobs…

Severus stood, took an owl treat out of a jar for Cliodne so that she would go home, and made his way to the living room. He dug his way through the bookshelves until he found the Little House books. The set had come from a "Good Will" group around Christmas when he was around Evan's age. The group had left a package in bright paper on his doorstep. He brushed his hands over the books and remembered reading through them over and over, letting Lily borrow them, reading them again. They were never much his style, but outside of the dark arts books his mother had possessed, they were all he had to escape in.

He flicked his wand, wrapping the books in green paper. The same color as Lily's eyes.

"I knew you'd come!"

Severus grimaced as the boy threw his arms around him.

"Yes, well, I thought your mother and I could discuss potioneering." He peeled himself carefully away from the boy, just in time to see his mother run up behind him.

"Severus Snape," she said, holding out her hand. "I am honored to be your host."

"Ah, yes," Severus muttered, lifting a hand to shake hers. "It is an honor to be here, Madam Baker. I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to react very… hospitably… upon learning that I have been tutoring Evan."

She laughed, and it was like the sound of tinkling bells. Severus froze, eyes wide.

"Oh, I didn't," she assured him. Had she laughed before, at the Three Broomsticks? Apparently not, for he would have been just as startled then, to hear a laugh that sounded so much like _hers_.

"Professor, are you alright?" Harry asked. Severus quickly shook himself, and adopted an unreadable look.

"I am fine, Mr. Baker."

"Well, come on in then," Belinda Baker said, sounding somewhat strained. "If you'll let Evan get you a cup of tea, I just need to find my glasses. I set them down somewhere in the basement, and I'm afraid you look rather blurry at the moment."

"Of course, Madam Baker," he said smoothly, though inside he was in turmoil. She sounded so familiar, and the house- it had been the home of Mr. and Mrs. Evans.

"Have a cup of tea, Professor."

"Evan, when did your mother acquire this house?"

"Oh, it-"

"I acquired the house after studying with Madam Slydell," Belinda called from the stairway. "It had been abandoned by a muggle family with a witch daughter. Their other daughter, who was also a muggle, sold it to me for half the price. Said she didn't want anything to do with it. She took all of her mother's things, but left behind the furniture and whatnot."

"Petunia," Severus grumbled.

"I have to say, I am honestly surprised to see you here," Belinda said, her eyes seeming to scan him as she approached. "I remember you from school. You always seemed like such a loner… Most of the time, that is."

"The Dark Lord took much from me. I… I would not have come, but I suppose some part of me has severely missed companionship. I do not know yours or your son's true identity, but I assure you that if I were truly loyal to the Dark Lord, then just the knowledge that he and you were wanted would have indicated to me that I should kidnap the both of you."

Somehow, Severus felt a need to please and impress this woman. But his rambling seemed to only garner more suspicion in Belinda, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Mum, Professor Snape is good, I promise," Harry whisperingly assured her.

"I, um, brought Evan a gift," the Professor said, pulling the package from his robes and having the decency to look at least somewhat uncertain.

Belinda narrowed her eyes.

"I have kept this place very secret," she began slowly. "I have kept my son and I hidden since even before he was born. I will be keeping an eye on you, Professor. If the Dumbledore trusts you, for certain- why?"

"That is a private matter," he said, suddenly guarded.

"Mum, please?"

Lily looked at her son, into his pleading eyes. Then to Severus, who looked lonelier and more hollow than she had ever seen him.

She sighed.

"Alright, Professor Snape. I will not delve into your private affairs. I suppose, if Dumbledore trusts you, it is not impossible for me to trust you as well. You have befriended my son, as well. I am interested in why. It's very… peculiar, that you would allow him to borrow possessions of yours, or devote time to tutoring him."

"Evan is… an interesting child," Severus said uncertainly as Evan bounded up to him.

"You got me something, then, Professor? You really didn't have to, you know."

"It isn't an expensive gift. If your mother says it's alright, you may open it now. It is possible she may want to check it for dark magic."

Harry turned to his mother with pleading eyes. She nodded.

When his eyes touched the Little House books, he squealed with delight. Severus winced at the sound. He eyed the boy's mother, hoping for some sign of approval, sure that she would say the gift was terribly cheap, even for a teacher. But instead of disdain, Belinda's eyes held tears, and her mouth curved into a small smile.

"Professor Snape… Were those yours?"

"Yes, they were. Evan has read them before in my home, and I allowed him to borrow them over the Holidays. I assure you they are not jinxed." He continued to watch her face. She took one of the books, turned it over in her hands, smiling.

"Evan has my copy of book 1," she told him. She opened the book and flipped through the pages, stopping at every tear or child scribble. "This is a very sweet gift, Professor."

"Thank you, Professor!" Evan chirped delightedly. "I'm going to take these upstairs to my room!"

When he was gone, Belinda turned to the Professor, biting her lip.

"Master Snape," she said uncertainly, "you knew I would probably react badly to you... Why did you decide to come here, if you knew I might kick you right back out again?"

Severus closed his eyes. "Your son has a way of drawing people out, Madam Baker. He is truly exceptional, both as a student and as a person. He reminds me of a friend I had in childhood. Aside from that, I… It has been a while since… I knew you were a Potions Master, and I hoped… and Dumbledore has been encouraging me to, say, put myself out there. I wanted to… I..."

Evan came down, then, and cut him short. Severus was left wondering what had made him share so much with a perfect stranger. But something about this woman… He almost wanted to believe she was Lily.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few weeks passed without much event. Severus continued to tutor Evan in his free time, even helped him brew a potion for his mother's stores. As for Madam Baker, Severus was fast becoming close friends with her, although he hadn't revealed any of his more personal feelings to her since Evan's birthday.

The initial shock of being so intensely reminded of Lily by Belinda had worn off, and he had managed to accept that she was an altogether different person. Lily would never have been emotionally absent for her son, having known the effects of Eileen's similar behavior. And this woman was so careful and calculating- Lily was rash, a true Gryffindor.

Both Evan and Belinda seemed to bear strong resemblance to her, however, and he found himself shaken every so often by a laugh, a facial expression, a saying she had been fond of. But Belinda had attended school with her after all. As far as Severus knew, she and Lily had been friends. At any rate, Severus found himself still lost inside.

The day before school would start again, he found himself in the Baker living room, discussing potions research with Madam Baker, Evan chiming in on occasion to ask a question or supply an observation, but mostly just listening intently.

"What about Gondo Beetles? I haven't given them much thought, but perhaps their properties would aid this particular potion?" Madam Baker was attempting to create a protection potion against the Imperious curse.

"Gondo Beetles would react badly with the Mayberry Leaves," Evan quickly supplied. "Come on Mom, that's Elementary," he teased.

Madam Baker gave her son a withering look. "I think it's time for you to go to bed."

"And the reaction between Gondo Beetles and Mayberry leaves can be safely neutralized by a few different methods," Severus added, amused. "The next time I return, I expect you to know them."

Evan's eyes widened. "Yes, Professor," he murmured excitedly, his thoughts racing as he wondered how the two ingredients could be made to work together.

After he had gone up the stairs, Belinda turned to Severus. "He's getting cheeky, isn't he?"

"Perhaps a small amount of arrogance, but he responds well to critique. It seems to excite him."

"That's no surprise. I have tried my best to form his view of the world and of the challenges he encounters as a kind of… Puzzle-solving. I came to the realization somewhat late myself, but once I did, life and work became much more fun."

"And yet, you were a Gryffindor. I must say, I find that surprising."

Belinda smiled. "A thirst for knowledge is a Ravenclaw trait, but it isn't something I value above all things. My family- my son- my friends, even those I haven't seen in years. I would die before I let harm come to my son."

Severus took a slow breath. "Lily thought the same way."

Belinda froze for a moment, felt something like lightning go through her, but quickly recovered. "Lily Evans-Potter. Yes, she did think that way. But she was also rather rash."

Severus looked at her. "I suppose so."

"The two of you were friends, were you not?"

"Yes. She was my best friend, actually."

"Why did you become a Death Eater, then?"

The look she gave him was harsh. Her eyes held contempt, and something- some kind of indignation.

He was silent for a long time. She watched his face, but only saw extreme pain there, and she looked away, feeling guilty for asking. But she had to know.

Finally, he began to speak.

"I did not have the greatest childhood, and school did not offer me much better. There was a boy at school who… He didn't like me, nor I him. I often felt… I suppose the best word is impotent. I felt the need to prove myself. I wanted to be cool and interesting. I wanted to be powerful, to have people look upon me with a kind of reverence."

"Then why join the Death Eaters? Dumbledore is powerful, but he has always been on the side of good."

Severus offered her a pained smile. "Hindsight is 20/20, they say."

She shook her head. "There has to be more to it than that. You must have had some stronger reason."

"Well, my mother owned only magic books revolving around the dark arts, and my father was a muggle, who didn't like magic or wizards and didn't hesitate to show it. I suppose that may have affected my leanings in some way," Severus said wryly.

"Lily Evans was your best friend. Are you telling me you still held a prejudice against muggles even with a muggleborn witch as your best friend?"

He smiled. "Lily was more powerful than I was, you know. I didn't have a prejudice against muggleborns, but muggles still disgusted me for quite some time. Although, her parents showed me much kindness… I thought I could protect her, I thought that if I joined the Death Eaters and became impressive, she would…"

"She would what?"

He swallowed. "Fall in love with me."

Madam Baker sucked in a breath. "Oh. That explains a lot."

He narrowed his eyes. "And I suppose that is _amusing._ "

"I'm not laughing, I'm trying to understand why you thought the best way to get your crush to like you was to join a cause that would have her tortured and killed at the first opportunity." She stared hard at his guilty face, calculating, considering.

"Like I said, hindsight is 20/20. But I like to think I've gained some sense since then."

They were both silent for a long moment. Then, Madam Baker spoke, slowly, carefully, "she had a bit of a crush on you too, you know."

Severus tried to ignore the jolt that went through his body. "Excuse me?"

"She did. Mary caught her staring at you in seventh year from far away. You were laughing and talking with some girl. Mary teased her about it relentlessly, and that was the week she started dating James Potter. I don't think her feelings for you were quite as strong or even as romantically inclined as yours were, and more than that, she knew there would be no dating you, since you had already joined the death eaters by then. Besides, she did happen to like James. Becoming James's girlfriend immediately squashed any rumors about her supposed feelings for you. It was a smart move, really."

"She-"

"There really was no chance the two of you would have worked, at that point. Tell me, if she had asked, would you have abandoned the cause? Would you have been able to ensure the safety of her family and friends?"

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, hiding his face under a curtain of hair. She watched him struggle for a moment, before he admitted, "no. I enjoyed the power far too much- I was too far gone. I was blind to the fact that I was putting her in even more danger by being on that side, but more than that, I was enjoying myself. I felt like I belonged with those people. Perhaps we were all victims of circumstance in that regard- the misfits no one wanted, coupled with the rich who needed warriors for their cause. I was highly respected by them. In the end though, they would have sold me out in an instant for the same power."

They were silent together, both lost in thought. Finally, he looked up at her, attempting to hide the pain he felt in knowing he had destroyed everything he had ever wanted by his own actions. But she knew him too well, could see even though she now needed glasses to do it. She hadn't forgiven him yet, but she could sense something good in him, even after all those years. She nodded at him, and he seemed to relax.

A change of subject was certainly in order.

"How are you getting back to Hogwarts? I always wondered how Professors traveled to and from the school."

He gave her an odd look. "I usually floo to the Hog's Head."

"Really? Does anyone ride the train with the children?"

"One or two professors will occasionally be on board, but generally not unless we've been asked to heighten security for some purpose. My first year teaching, the war was still going on when school started, so the Headmaster himself rode the train with the students, alongside Minerva and Filius."

She shook her head. "You, a Professor. I must say, Master Snape, you never really struck me as the type. But the way you are with Evan… it makes sense."

"That's surprising, considering I can't stand children. I'm known by my students as the bat of the dungeons."

She laughed. "Bat of the dungeons! You know, Ha- Evan told me he thought you were a giant bat when he first saw you."

Her stutter was left unnoticed by the Potions master, who was enjoying himself for the first time in years.

"Ëvan is a special case."

"So you're saying, you like my son enough that you don't mind him mistaking you for a bat?"

He shrugged. "Giant bats are terrifying, aren't they? That's what I've always wanted, after all."

"You really do seem different than I… expected," observed Belinda. "Especially when it comes to my son."

Severus sighed. "I was… in a very dark place, after the war. Dumbledore put me through some muggle counseling… and then also through some muggle teaching courses. I think McGonagal put him up to it, really. Meddling woman…"

"How'd he get you to even go to something like that?" Belinda asked incredulously.

"The old coot suggested it during my trial," grumbled Severus, "as part of my punishment for joining the Death Eaters in the first place, in order to _rehabilitate_ me. It was either that or Azkaban, but I must say I was unaware at the time that I would have much preferred Azkaban over attempting to teach muggle children the ABCs."

She laughed, and he offered a small smile. He loved to hear her laugh, not because it sounded like Lily's laugh, but because it was a beautiful laugh, and something about seeing this woman, with light, thin brown hair and lines etched on her face- something about seeing her form in such a state of joy made him happy. He caught himself thinking this, and took a moment to compose his emotions. Madam Baker was kind, a good friend, but he couldn't see her ever wanting to be more to him than a fellow Potions Master.

"You know, that last trip to Hogsmeade was Evan's first," she said, interrupting his thoughts.

He looked at her. She wore a mischievous grin, and he didn't have to probe her mind to know what she wanted him to ask.

"Perhaps the two of you can floo there with me early," he suggested. "I had some things to pick up from the local apothecary anyway."

He knew he was taking a chance, even though she had been obvious about her interest in going with him. Everyone in Hogsmeade, including the other professors who would be flooing to school, would see them together, with the child. Dumbledore already suspected something had changed.

"We'd be delighted," Madam Baker replied, a warm smile gracing her face.


End file.
